Sealed
by Manita
Summary: Getting Kakashi to open up was never going to be easy, but life and meddling Hokages have a way of making things happen.


SEALED

_"There is no such thing as accident; it is fate misnamed." Napoleon Bonaparte_

"Damn it, Kakashi. Don't!" Iruka slammed his palm against the door frame in frustration, sighing a quiet " . . . leave," to the empty walkway. Maybe he should follow? He spun back into the apartment, aiming a sullen kick at the door as he turned. No, Kakashi'd made his wishes clear by leaving, Iruka wasn't about to start chasing.

The half-empty dishes on the dining table mocked him; they couldn't even get through an entire meal recently without fighting. Except Kakashi didn't fight, did he? He did cool looks and silences. And when Iruka pushed for fiery confrontation, Kakashi walked out.

Should he tell someone? That was standard procedure if a shinobi went off the deep end but... No. Kakashi wasn't dangerous, and the last thing he needed on top of Itachi's genjutsu, was more people messing about in his head. He'd probably just gone to the memorial stone anyway. Iruka wouldn't have minded a breath of fresh air himself, but he had a mission to run tomorrow and his gear wasn't going to ready itself.

Leaving the crockery where it was, because Kakashi could damn well clean it up when he got home, Iruka headed for the bedroom and started packing. He'd be away for three or four days. Maybe, by the time he got back, Kakashi would have sorted himself out.

* * *

"Iruka-sensei! Iruka-sensei!"

Iruka glanced up from the sign-in book to see Sakura racing towards him, waving frantically. "Sakura?" he queried as she stumbled to a halt, leaning on her knees and panting. "What's wrong?"

"It's Kakashi-sensei," she gasped, cheeks flushed. "He's at the hospital. You need-"

Whatever else Sakura said, Iruka missed it. He was already on the roof heading for the hospital as fast as his mission-weary legs could carry him. Shizune met him at the door and Iruka could only be grateful for the almost supernatural speed that information got passed around the village.

"This way," she said, her controlled pace forcing Iruka to walk.

It was almost tempting to remain ignorant, but Iruka forced the question out. "What happened?" He'd imagined all types of terrible things on the way over. It had to be bad, since they wouldn't bother fetching him if it was just chakra exhaustion again. That happened so often that he only got a note taped to his front door if one of the medics happened to be going that way. Mostly he found out when Kakashi slouched home looking like death warmed over.

"He fell." Shizune's high heels clipped the floor in a hard sharp tattoo. Iruka lurched.

"Fell?" Ninja didn't fall. It wasn't possible.

"Or he was pushed. We're not sure yet."

That just raised more questions. "Where? When?"

"Three days ago, we think. He was found in the woods at the bottom of the Hokage monument." Shizune stopped, one hand on a door and turned to face him, her expression troubled. "Was he having problems?"

"Problems?" Iruka's mind raced. Why was she asking him this now? He wanted to see Kakashi. "What kind of problems?" She just looked at him. Iruka searched for an answer that would get him past her and into the room. "He seemed okay, I guess. I mean everyone's upset about Sandaime and then with Sasuke leaving..."

"He didn't say anything to you? Give any indication that he was distressed?"

"What?" Was she saying what he thought she was saying? "No! Kakashi wouldn't..." do that. Wouldn't leave him. Wouldn't... Just wouldn't. No. He pushed past Shizune, ignoring her grunt as their shoulders connected and straight-armed the door.

Inside there were tubes and wires and machines. The room's single occupant lay deathly still beneath white sheets.

Iruka's feet seemed to meld with the floor. He stood and stared, watching and waiting for that subtle rise and fall to tell him that Kakashi was just sleeping. That he wasn't dead. There: up - down. Iruka's heart beat again, loud and rapid-fire in his ears. Sound sprang back into the world, along with colour and movement.

Shizune had followed him in; she was pulling up a chair and talking. "… have him under sedation for now, just in case. I'm sorry I had to ask, but with his family history, all possibilities had to be considered and there was no evidence of another party being involved."

Iruka closed his hand on the back of the chair, his weight suddenly too much for his legs. Shizune's strong arm under his own guided him down and he sat, totally focused on Kakashi. It took a few moments before he finally managed to croak out, "How bad?"

"Not good. It was over twenty four hours before he was found so there was hypothermia in addition to numerous broken bones and contusions. He'd tried to summon help; there was a bloody hand-print on the ground and traces of chakra."

Oh god. Iruka pressed his fist to his mouth, pushing back the sounds that were trying to escape. Three days. That was how long he'd been on his mission. Had Kakashi already fallen when Iruka left? Was he already lying, alone and helpless in the woods as Iruka joked with Kotetsu and Izumo on his way out of the gate? He should have followed him; if he had followed him this wouldn't have happened. If Kakashi died, it would all be his fault.

"Anyway, now you're back, we can do the next lot of surgery. There's forms for you to sign and Tsunade-sama said she wanted a word with you before they started."

"Forms?" Iruka's head was spinning. None of this was making sense.

"Consent forms. You're down as Kakashi's medical proxy. Since you were due back within twenty four hours, procedure says we have to wait for permission to do anything beyond stabilizing the patient and ensuring there's no further damage. So if you could just sign these..." She shoved a clipboard into his hands and held out a pen. He took it, still blank, still numb, and signed where she pointed; once, twice, three times.

Kakashi had made him his medical proxy? Why would he do that without saying anything? And when? It must have been during the past couple of months since no one had asked him for signatures before.

"They're prepping the theatre right now. I'll be back in about twenty minutes." She shut the door behind her, leaving Iruka alone with beeping machines and trailing wires and tubes that looked like they'd been thrown by a mad noodle maker.

And Kakashi.

Iruka tugged the chair forwards so his knees pressed against the edge of the bed and placed his hands on the covers, careful not to touch anything, though he wanted to so much. He clasped his fingers, one hand with the other, to stop himself and then, with a whispered, "fuck it," he reached out and grazed his fingertips across Kakashi's bare cheek above the oxygen mask. He was cool to the touch and not a flicker of awareness passed over his face. Whatever they'd given him was strong. Even when he'd been in that coma, he'd flinched when touched.

"What did you do?" Iruka asked quietly, his voice hardly registering over the sound of the heart monitor. "I know you were upset by Sasuke leaving but not this badly, surely?" It seemed an odd way to go if he had done it deliberately. A mission suicide, now that Iruka would believe. Going out in a blaze of glory as he took his enemy down with him. Or even passively, alone, of chakra exhaustion afterward. But throwing himself off the monument? No. No, the more Iruka thought about, the more he was certain. Whatever had happened up there that night, it hadn't been a suicide attempt.

The door opened again far too soon and this time it was Tsunade who came in. She stood at the bottom of the bed staring at Kakashi for several moments before turning her attention on Iruka - who'd stood up when she entered and met her gaze unflinchingly. Having seen the work she'd done on Lee, he knew that if anyone could get Kakashi on his feet again, it was the new Hokage.

"I was surprised to see your name down as next of kin," she said after a moment. "He's not bothered with that since Rin died."

Iruka almost asked 'who?' until he remembered an old report giving the names of Kakashi's genin team. Instead he said, "Not as surprised as I was."

Tsunade's eyes widened for a moment, then she smirked. "That brat. He always did play his cards too close to his chest." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I expect that as soon we wheel him away, you're going to take root outside my operating theatre and refuse to move."

"Probably," Iruka concurred. He couldn't imagine what else he might do.

"And I don't suppose there's any point in sending you home and telling you to rest up after your mission either."

To be honest he'd forgotten there had even been a mission. "No point at all."

"Humph." Tsunade glared at him, hands on her hips. "Fine. He'll be in surgery for at least four hours so you have time to go home, shower and eat. Then you can come back - on one condition."

"What's that?" He'd be prepared to do just about anything if she didn't throw him out of the hospital.

The door opened again and several medics came in to get Kakashi ready to move. Iruka found his attention split so when Tsunade caught his arm in a frighteningly strong grip, he jumped. She smirked again and this time her expression was remarkably evil. "When he's feeling better, come see me for your first mission."

A week later and Iruka was prepared to drag Kakashi bodily back up the Hokage monument and throw him off himself. Normally Kakashi's genius brain was kept busy running missions, reading porn or thinking up new ways of poking fun at pompous old wind-bags - a gift that, when exercised in public, regularly reduced Iruka to frantically smothered sniggers. Confined to bed by his physical injuries and yet mentally alert, Kakashi was restless and uncomfortable, and was driving Iruka to distraction. He wouldn't speak about what happened that night and if Iruka tried to bring it up, he shut down completely and claimed to be too tired to talk. Nor would he discuss the argument they'd been having before that. In fact, Iruka thought he might be getting an insight into what the pre-pubescent Kakashi had been like, and if he was then frankly it was surprising Kakashi had made to adulthood at all.

"Read to me."

"No."

"You read it at home."

"I read it at home in bed."

"I'm in bed."

Iruka ground his teeth and glared determinedly at the paperwork Kotetsu had so generously brought him. "Kakashi, I am not reading _Icha-Icha_ aloud in public where anyone could hear me, and that's that."

A sullen petulant silence, followed by, "You're doing that wrong."

"No, I'm not."

"You are. That part should be filled in last."

Iruka looked at the form. Damn it, Kakashi was right. He scrunched it up with a scowl and launched it at the trash-can just as a nurse came in. Like any good ninja, she ducked the missile without breaking stride. "Time for your physical therapy, Kakashi-san," she announced. The growl from the bed was Iruka's cue to leave; some things were not spectator sports.

He was hurrying out through reception when Sakura flagged him down. "Tsunade-sama sent me to tell you she had something you'd better pick up before she changes her mind about letting you stay next time."

Iruka frowned. Something for him? Oh, a mission. Kakashi was getting better, he supposed, and was certainly well enough to be left for a few days if Iruka had to leave the village. If he needed anything, he could always summon Pakkun. "Thank you. You seem to be around the hospital a lot. Are you visiting someone?"

Sakura giggled. "No, everyone's better now, thank goodness. Actually," she blushed and looked determined. "Tsunade-shisho has agreed to train me. I'm going to become a medical ninja just like her."

"Wow, that's great." Iruka was truly impressed. "As one of the sannin, Tsunade-sama is unsurpassed in her area of expertise. You'll certainly learn a lot from her. Congratulations, Sakura-kun."

"Thank you." A swirl of her skirt, a blush and downcast eyes, and she was back to the little girl Iruka remembered from the academy. He smiled. They grew up so fast. It seemed like only yesterday he was trying to stop Sakura and Ino tearing each other's hair out. Of course, now the reason for their rivalry was gone.

He cast a glance towards the north and the Valley of the End. Was there anything anyone could have done to stop him leaving? It must be terrible for Kakashi. He'd taught the boy his own jutsu only to have Sasuke turn around and use it to try and kill his team mate. And all that on top of Sandaime being killed and the horrible genjutsu that Itachi had used on him. Iruka wished Kakashi would talk about it, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't talk about anything personal and as time passed Iruka was feeling more and more as though the Kakashi he was sharing his life with was only an echo of a real person.

He parted company with Sakura outside Tsunade's office and knocked.

"Enter!"

Iruka opened the door and poked his head inside. Tsunade glanced up, and waved him in. "Shut the door," she ordered. He did as he was told and, quite curious now, stepped closer to the desk.

"I know you're screwing him, but how much do you know about Kakashi," she asked bluntly, folding her arms on her desk and staring up at him.

A flush crept across Iruka's cheeks. "He's an elite jounin so I don't expect-"

"Phff," she snorted. "Just as I thought. Right then, take this." She handed him a mission scroll. "Should keep you out of mischief."

Iruka unsealed the scroll and gave it quick read through. It was a basic D rank house cleaning and maintenance mission. "Um... wouldn't this be more suited to a genin team?"

"I've got jounin-sensei running S ranks, chunin taking A ranks and genin filling in on what's left," she snapped. "Since you won't be happy leaving the village while the brat's still recuperating, it's a perfect match. Be grateful."

Ouch. That wasn't a voice to argue with. Iruka dipped a bow. "Hai, Hokage-sama. I shall do my best."

"See that you do." As Iruka turned to leave, she added, "Oh and make sure you have a good poke around the place while you're in there. I've had reports of odd sounds and smells. It's probably rats, but you can't be too careful."

* * *

It was a nice little house, tucked between the sprawling Inuzuka compound and the memorial gardens, and easy to miss if you weren't looking for it. Iruka checked the address on the scroll one more time then pushed open the gate and made his way up the front path. Stone slabs wove between low growing shrubs, rocky outcrops and stretches of gravel that were already showing a blush of green in the spring sunshine. In the shade, clumps of kosumire were starting to bloom, their pretty purple flowers the herald of worse weeds to come. Someone had obviously been keeping the place up and just as obviously, that someone wasn't doing it any more.

There were several of these properties in Konoha. Owned by shinobi who were away long term, most were maintained by genin teams when there was no family to pick up the slack. With everyone so busy with vital missions, Iruka wondered why this one had been selected for special treatment. A personal favour from the new Hokage perhaps?

His first job would be to remove the heavy shutters that protected the windows from the worst of the winter weather. The house probably needed a good airing out if they'd been up for long. Leaving his sandals on the stone floor of a genkan the same size as his kitchen, Iruka ventured up polished wooden steps to the next level, sliding aside fusama to reveal a single large room whose wooden beamed walls were just visible in the dim light from outside. Two solid doors opened off the far right hand wall, presumably into an extension, and between them a set of stairs lead up to the second floor. He'd investigate those later.

Leaving the doors open, Iruka managed, after a bit of manoeuvring, to get all the windows uncovered. A single bare bulb dangled from the middle of the ceiling, suggesting the place at least had electricity. That was good. The toko boasted a plain white vase that looked in need of a flower or two and a single painted scroll, showing a storm raging through mountains. It was beautiful in an oddly stylised way that didn't look native to Fire Country. Was the house owner a merchant, perhaps? The rear doors opened onto another garden, larger than the one at the front and mostly wild, though a narrow path cut through tall grass and sprawling flowers to a small building that Iruka feared was probably the privy.

But apart from that, there really wasn't much to see. Going by the faint covering of dust and the musty smell, the house was unoccupied. So why had Tsunade-sama given him this task? She'd mentioned odd sounds and smells. Iruka couldn't see any signs of vermin, but then he'd hardly looked carefully. Deciding the second floor could wait since rats were opportunistic little buggers who wouldn't climb if they didn't have to, he opened the first of the two closed doors. It was the bathroom. Immaculately clean and totally empty, it was tiled floor to ceiling in a pale granite and had a very new looking high-pressure shower and luxury-sized soaking tub. Iruka left the way he'd come, convinced that not even the most determined rat could find anything in there to eat.

The other door hid the kitchen which, although obviously older than the bathroom, was still modern and even had a washing machine, something that Iruka would gladly kill for after a long day in the classroom. What it didn't have was any unwanted guests. Or at least a quick check around didn't reveal any. It did reveal food however, in the form of jars of rice and pickles, a few pans and a single set of crockery stacked neatly in one cupboard. Perhaps the place wasn't as unoccupied as he'd thought?

Upstairs was next, where Iruka found three separate rooms; two bedrooms, one that showed signs of recent use, and the third which was not only locked but sealed. Iruka stood and regarded that door with some level of bafflement. Such things were not unheard of, but it was unusual to have a sealed room in a private home, especially when it was, to all intents and purposes, empty. Perhaps it contained the family shrine? There were still no rats however, so whatever was behind the reports Tsunade was getting, it wasn't that.

Since the house needed little more than airing out, Iruka turned his attention to the garden and was soon on his hands and knees plucking grass from the gravel. It was quiet work. Relaxing in a mindless sort of a way. He could listen to the birds and insects and let his thoughts wander, which of course they did, all the way back to Kakashi.

What had he been doing up on the monument that night? As far as Iruka knew, no evidence of another party had been found, but whatever the suspicions, Iruka was absolutely certain Kakashi hadn't been trying to kill himself. Unfortunately that didn't answer the question of what had been going on. Nor did it address how they stood with each other. Kakashi had definitely put him down as next of kin on all his forms – Iruka had checked – but when Iruka mentioned it to him, Kakashi got this squirrelly look and refused to talk about it. Iruka sighed, sat back on his heels and stared up at the expansive blue sky and puffy white clouds. Perhaps that was where he was going wrong, trying to apply logic to a situation where there was none. Maybe Kakashi didn't have a reason and had just done it on a whim; who knew? Certainly not Iruka, that was for sure.

After another week, Kakashi was out of the hospital and Iruka was back to teaching part-time. It suited him well. Splitting his day between the class-room and his ongoing cleaning-cum-maintenance mission meant lunchtimes could be spent at home with Kakashi, who was still confined to the house while his leg healed. As far as the mission went, he'd finished with the front garden and was making inroads on the back. That was taking more skill. There was an informal beauty to the grasses and flowers that Iruka was loath to mess up, so he restricted himself to removing the most pernicious weeds and in the process uncovered what had probably been a small vegetable patch at some point. Since it was spring, he decided to dig it over and see if he couldn't turn his hand to a bit of market gardening. It wasn't like the owner was around to object and fresh vegetables were always welcome on the dinner table. His plans met an unexpected crimp a few days later when what had been a promising warm spell turned cold, miserable, and exceedingly wet.

"Why don't you summon Pakkun?" Iruka suggested as he checked his water-proof for holes. With Konohamaru in his class he couldn't be too careful. "At least then you'd have someone to talk to."

Kakashi was stretched out on the couch and, with his hitai-ate back on, seemed much like his usual self, if you looked past the crutches propped up next to him and the washed-out cast to his skin. Rather than answer, he grunted and picked up _Icha-Icha:Violence_, expression as bored and bland as ever, though Iruka thought he detected a soupçon of petulance beneath the surface. Never let it be said that Hatake Kakashi was a good patient.

"Okay, I'll be back later then." Iruka dragged his poncho over his head. Somehow the neck-hole got caught on his pony tail and suddenly the entire damned thing was trying to decapitate him. He yanked and pulled and all that seemed to happen was it got tighter.

"C'mere." A steely grip fastened on his forearm through the thin cloth, tugging him a couple of steps until his knees hit soft cushions and then he was kneeling astride something, his thighs pressed against flexing muscle and his ass being poked by bony knees. Kakashi's lap. He shifted his weight to stay off Kakashi's damaged leg. (Ligaments, Shizune had said. She could reattach them but they'd be stronger if left to heal naturally. Kakashi should think himself lucky; a civilian would be out of action for months.)

A moment later the whole mess around his head gave and Iruka emerged, flushed and puffing, to find a paper-clip hitched to a rubber band dangling in front of his nose.

"That's a determined student," Kakashi said, looking most amused. "Resourceful too."

Iruka took it with a sigh. "Konohamaru," he said, because really the name explained everything. Damn it, that boy would be the death of him.

"Shaping up to be another Naruto, is he?" Kakashi replied, his hands sliding up under Iruka's waterproof and flak jacket and finding a home tucked into his waistband. "I'm glad he's going to be Ebisu's problem."

Iruka grinned at him lopsidedly. That was the closest Kakashi had come to referencing his disbanded genin team. Would he agree to take on another, Iruka wondered - almost immediately concluding that it would be years before it happened, if ever. It was bad enough losing everyone you loved without setting yourself up for it to happen again and again.

Rather than say anything and risk Kakashi closing down, he leaned forward and dropped an understanding kiss on the corner of his mouth. Kakashi chased and then deepened it, his whole body pushing up against Iruka as though he needed the touch. Iruka obliged him, melting closer and carding his fingers through soft strands of errant hair. He could do this for hours, he thought as Kakashi hummed happily under his mouth. Just the two of them with no worries and no concerns. The rest of the world could go hang. Unfortunately it wouldn't. Much sooner than he would have preferred, Iruka pulled away and sighed into Kakashi's temple. "I have to go."

"S'only a D rank. Blow it off."

"I can't." But it was tempting, so very, very tempting. "How about we work on getting you in the tub this evening?" he suggested. That was something Kakashi had been moaning about since he'd got home but had been impossible up to this point.

"That'd be good." Kakashi's face burrowed against his neck. "Join me?"

Iruka grabbed a handful of hair and tugged until Kakashi tipped his head back. "Only if you promise to be good," he said, projecting strict teacher vibes.

Kakashi leered at him. "Oh, sensei, I am always good." Which really just went to show that Kakashi could use some new, and much higher quality, source material.

* * *

The kitchen, empty as it was, did actually contain cleaning utensils. After hanging his dripping poncho in the genkan above his equally soaked sandals and carrying the rest of the supplies into the house, Iruka decided to start upstairs since the dust could then be swept downwards. Both bedrooms were empty, though the storage cupboard in the smaller one contained a futon that was obviously well used. Iruka cleaned thoroughly, chasing away a few spiders who'd tried to adopt the holes and corners as their own, then moved on to the other bedroom. This one was larger and the floorboards were stained with something that could have been old blood. Iruka's first instinct was to try and clean it, until he examined the rest of the room. It was empty, yes, but it also felt untouched. A thick layer of dust coated the window frames and the door itself felt stiff as though it wasn't often opened. Maybe something happened here, he thought, thinking better of the task and closing the door behind him as he left. He'd check with Tsunade-sama next time he saw her. Perhaps she'd be able to shed light on the mystery.

The third room was out of bounds, behind its seal. Iruka took another look at the paper tag, squatting down next to it and peering closely at the script. It looked simple. In fact, if he hadn't been able to feel the chakra within it, he'd think it was a plain 'keep out' sign. It had to be more complex than that though, surely, otherwise why bother. Curiosity getting the better of him, he tentatively reached out and touched a finger to the tag, pushing the tiniest amount of chakra into the paper. Heat slapped him in the face and sudden pressure threw him back across the hallway, smack into the wall.

Head reeling, Iruka sat there for a moment waiting for the lights to stop flashing. What the hell had that been? Damn it, the seal must have been trapped! He patted at his face, momentary concern for his eyebrows vanishing as he quickly determined that at worst he'd only look mildly sun-burned. Which then begged the question, since it wasn't designed to kill, did triggering the trap alert the owner or, god forbid, the Hokage; and if so, what might the punishment be for sticking his nose where it didn't belong?

Whatever happened, it wasn't something he could escape by running away, but if he was busy working when whoever it was turned up, then he could just explain it away as an unfortunate accident - so sorry, won't happen again. Giving the sealed room a final filthy look, Iruka scuttled past it and back downstairs. It was getting late and he still had the bathroom and kitchen to do, not to mention the genkan and the privy in the garden.

He was busy scrubbing the loo when the loud sound of a door slamming resounded from the house. Only just avoiding cracking his head on the bowl, Iruka shot to his feet and flung open the privy door, half-expecting to see the irate owner or, heaven forbid, a squad of masked ANBU, heading down the garden. There wasn't. In fact there wasn't a sign of anything untoward; rain was still falling, grass still drooped soggily, and the house still stared sightlessly into the grey afternoon. If he hadn't been a shinobi trained not to ignore things like possible intruders, Iruka might have thought he'd imagined it.

Grabbing a kunai from his weapons pouch, he padded back up the narrow path and stopped at the door, listening intently. Except for the odd creak of boards settling and the rain pattering on the roof, the place was silent. He checked the ground-floor, which proved not to shelter any intruders, and then moved on to the stairs, creating a shadow clone to go first, on the off-chance someone was lurking, waiting to ambush him. There wasn't. In fact the entire building appeared to be devoid of anyone who might have slammed that door. Unless...

Iruka's attention turned to the third room. The sealed third room. To his horror, the seal had vanished entirely, as if it had never been there. He gingerly touched a palm to the door, feeling for vibrations or other traps. Nothing, except that the door gave under his hand, swinging inwards the slightest amount. Iruka gave it a gentle push and it opened further, revealing a gloomy looking space about half the size of the larger bedroom, stacked floor to ceiling with stuff.

For the longest moment he was tempted to shut the door and walk away. It would be a dreadful invasion of his client's privacy to poke around in their personal belongings, yet... Iruka swayed on the spot, caught between concern and courtesy. What if there was a thief or, worse, some missing-nin bent on stealing secrets. That made up Iruka's mind; checking for intruders was not being rude, it was being conscientious. If anyone quibbled he could genuinely say that he had his client's best interests at heart.

Again he sent the clone to clear his way. It walked to the other end of the room, stopped and waved back at him. He dispelled it, flicked on the light switch and followed, still wary but not actually expecting anything to jump out and kill him. The place wasn't as cluttered as he'd first thought. Yes, there were shelves and cabinets and drawers, but there was a sense of order which suggested library more than junkroom.

His attention was immediately drawn to an open butsudan against the right-hand wall, its lacquered surface gleaming under the artificial light. Like the scroll downstairs, the design wasn't Fire Country, which tended towards the austerely plain rather than ornate. And this was ornate. Beautifully so. As was the young woman pictured in the photograph on the altar. About Iruka's age, she was dark of hair and eye with delicate features and a clever smile. A wife, Iruka wondered? Or a daughter perhaps. But why keep her in here?

Beside the butsudan was a shelf of scrolls; some sealed, others not. Instinctively curious, Iruka peered at edges and ends, catching the distinctive kanji of a summoning jutsu here and the opening words of a letter there – Dearest Hoshiko. His fingers itched to touch, to unwind parchment and devour the contents. He moved on, past books and weapons, chests of drawers, shelves and boxes.

By the time he reached the other end, Iruka was fairly certain the room contained nothing living except himself. In fact the only sign of life at all was a comfy looking armchair tucked in one corner with a partially unravelled scroll draped over the back. Beside it on the floor lay a mat; blue, rectangular and padded, and covered in assorted colours and lengths of shed fur. And it was that clue that finally made the penny drop.

A shinobi who was currently unable to take care of his property. The oddly selective home improvements. The single set of crockery. The blood stain on the master bedroom floor. The dog bed. Together with the manipulative nature of the woman who'd become their Hokage and the fact that she had known precisely what she was doing when she gave Iruka this mission, there could only be one answer.

Iruka sank blankly into the armchair, his grip on its arms white-fingered as his gaze leapt from one object in the room to another. The butsudan (his mother?) The summoning scrolls (his father's?) A strangely shaped kunai. All of this was Kakashi's. Hatake family heirlooms. Private and personal. These were the objects that underpinned the life of the man he loved. Within this room lay the answers to virtually all the questions that Iruka had ever wanted to ask and that Kakashi never, in a million years, would answer. And they were here for the taking. Out in the open and easily accessible. He could take as much time as he liked, prying and poking, until he had all the information he wanted.

But at what cost.

If Kakashi found out, it would all be over, of that Iruka had no doubt. Even going to him right now and telling him everything might be enough to make him withdraw entirely. Their relationship was in such a tenuous place, Kakashi's mindset currently so unpredictable. Superficially everything seemed fine but Iruka knew better. If he looked beyond the sex and the easy banter, something had dug its claws into Kakashi's psyche and was giving him a savaging. And this... this unintentional invasion of his innermost secrets, could be enough to break him altogether.

And Iruka could never do that to someone he loved.

Slowly, and painstakingly careful not to touch a thing, he stood and made his way out of the room. Not until he closed the door behind him, did he dare to breath. But when he did, he inhaled the absolutely unmistakable scent of wet dog.

"He's waiting downstairs." Pakkun's rumbling growl came from the second bedroom just to his left.

Iruka neither turned nor acknowledged the words, he simply made his way down to the kitchen, the only room on the ground floor with chairs. And there Kakashi was, sitting at the kitchen table with his hands cupped around a mug of tea. As Iruka walked in, he looked up and their eyes met. Iruka held his gaze unflinchingly, projecting all the confidence he didn't feel about his right to be here in this house. He took the other seat, the one across from Kakashi, that had been kicked out from the table and stood waiting for him. They sat for the longest time in utter silence, seconds stretching out like long afternoons as outside the wind whipped raindrops against wooden walls.

Finally Kakashi said, "Did you know?"

That this was his house? That he was downstairs? Iruka took him as referring to the former. "Not until I saw the dog mat. Though I should have; in retrospect it was obvious."

"Hm, perhaps." Silence again and then, "But Tsunade gave you the mission."

"She did." That was his get out of jail free card, if Kakashi would let him use it.

This time the lack of conversation went on long enough that Iruka stood up to make himself a cup of tea. It wasn't until he was back in place that Kakashi said, "The seal was actually keyed to your chakra. If you'd known the release jutsu, it wouldn't have set off the trap."

Oh, now that was interesting. Iruka took a sip of his drink and thought long and hard. Kakashi had included him in the people able to open the door to his chamber of secrets. And yet he hadn't given him the jutsu. Kakashi had put him down as his next of kin, but hadn't told him about it or that he owned a house in another part of Konoha. Kakashi whispered sweet nothings in his ear at night and yet ran like a shinigami was after him whenever Iruka asked him a personal question. If he was given those facts about someone else, Iruka would take them as evidence of someone deeply divided in their own mind. Someone hedging their bets so well that they were in danger of building themselves a maze. And who better to get themselves lost in such a way than Kakashi who could procrastinate his way into being three days late for his own funeral.

Iruka sighed. Dancing around the issue was going to get them nowhere. He put his cup down, looked Kakashi squarely in the face and said, "Anything you feel able to share, I'd be honoured to hear, but Kakashi, don't feel obliged to do it. I can put up with the secrets."

A puffed breath ruffled Kakashi's mask. "Yeah, but you shouldn't have to just 'put up' with it." He slouched back in his chair, tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. "I've been thinking about it for a while. Before Sasuke..." he hesitated as though searching for the right term. Finally he settled on, "Before he _left_, we exchanged a few words. He asked me how I'd deal with it if he killed the one I loved and I told him that it was too late, that everyone I loved was already dead. But even as I was saying it, I knew I was lying. I just hadn't had the guts to admit it to myself, let alone the person I was in love with." He raised his head and looked at Iruka, his gaze level and cool and calm. "I put your name down as my next of kin the same afternoon."

Iruka felt a flush burn his cheeks and took a sudden interest in his tea-cup. It had a cartoon puppy on the side. "I have to admit to being surprised when Shizune-san gave me the forms," he said eventually. "Tsunade-sama certainly seemed to find it amusing."

Kakashi snorted. "She would. Devious old hag. She's probably got money riding on the outcome too. Hm, wonder what the odds are?"

"Odds on what?" If Kakashi thought he was going to stop there, he was much mistaken. The roundabout declaration of love was welcome, but there was more to their lives together, issues that needed to be addressed. Iruka was fed-up with living in limbo.

"Us, I guess?"

Iruka smiled a bit sadly. It was time to push. "And what about us, Kakashi? You said I shouldn't have to put up with your secrets. Does that mean you're finally ready to share?"

And as he did each and every time Iruka tried to talk to him about personal stuff, Kakashi shut down. He expression closed off and grew colder, his body tightened, his shoulders tensed. But he didn't try to run. Iruka supposed that had something to do with him still being on crutches. He must have nigh on killed himself getting across town.

"How about we start with something simple," Iruka suggested and gestured to the room they were sat in. "Is this where you grew up?"

Kakashi looked shifty. "This is my parents' house, yes," he said, and nothing more.

They sat and stared at each other until Iruka sighed, long and heavy with pure frustration, and tugged hard on his ponytail. Pulling teeth would be easier. "Is it really that painful?"

"Not... painful, exactly. Just... uncomfortable."

"Why? Because we're talking about your parents?" Had his childhood been so terrible?

"No."

"So... why?"

The squirrelly look was back. Iruka prepared himself to tackle Kakashi if he tried to run. They'd got this far, he was damned if they weren't going to sort this out once and for all.

"Because..." Was that a blush across the tops of his cheeks? Iruka stared in absolute fascination as the colour deepened and spread, and then as Kakashi folded in on himself as though someone had sneaked up behind him and popped him with a pin. His shoulders collapsed and his head dropped to his chest. "Because it's about me," he mumbled.

Was he shy? It seemed hard to believe for someone who read porn in public and had the sort of a reputation that gave elite shinobi nightmares. But that was all front, Iruka knew. He might have seen Kakashi's face, but what he was asking for now was the man behind the metaphorical mask. "Kakashi," Iruka said gently, "You're one of my most important people. Of course I want to know about you."

"I'm not that interesting," came the muttered reply.

"To me you are." There had to be a way of dealing with this. If Kakashi was a kid in his classroom, what would he do? Share something about himself. Make it into an exchange of information rather than a grilling. "My parents' house was destroyed during the kyuubi attack," he offered. "It wasn't old like this one, but it was nice."

Kakashi glanced up at him and then around at the kitchen. He seemed to get it, but then he was a genius. "The vegetable garden was my mother's," he said after a few moments. "She used to grow egg-plant and peppers and make tempura." That was the most Kakashi had ever said about his mother in all the years Iruka had known him. In fact Iruka hadn't even been sure that Kakashi remembered her.

"My father was the cook in our family," Iruka said, keeping up the give and take. "He used to buy fresh vegetables every day and let me stand on a chair so I could help prepare them."

"Mine taught me how to hold a kunai."

Was that all, Iruka wanted to ask? Didn't he do anything else? "My mother taught me. She was jounin." His mum had taught him nearly all his ninja skills. Ninjutsu, taijutsu. He remembered her strong gentle hands winding the strapping around his small fingers, demonstrating the complex twists and turns that provided the most support.

"Mine was chunin," Kakashi said, dragging Iruka back from his memories.

He had to be referring to his mother, Iruka thought, since Konoha's White Fang had definitely been jounin, still... "I didn't even know she was a shinobi." Kakashi gave him a look that clearly said, of course she was, you idiot. Iruka flushed and added, "Well, your dad's the one that's famous."

Kakashi snorted. "Infamous, more like." That was difficult to argue with. Even after all these years, Hatake Sakumo's name was spoken with little respect in some quarters. Iruka was considering the implications of that when Kakashi dropped his bombshell, "He was away on a mission when she died." His expression turned distant, strained. "It was just after the second war. He was heading the clean up in Suna. She thought she was pregnant but it was cancer. By the time they realised it had already metastasised. She was dead within three months."

Crap. Iruka swallowed thickly, thinking about the way he'd lost his mum, how quick it had been and, though it had hurt impossibly at the time, he knew she'd gone protecting the people she loved. "I'm sorry," he said, and it felt beyond inadequate.

Kakashi blinked at him, then he smiled, that fake charming smile of his. "It's fine. It was years ago."

"That doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt," Iruka said with all the authority of personal experience in his voice.

The smile vanished as though switched off at the mains. Kakashi's gaze dropped to the table-top then rose again a moment later. This time when he spoke, it was entirely genuine. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I get it. It's easier to hide and when you've done it for so long it's a hard habit to break." Iruka leaned across the table until their fingers touched.

Kakashi laced them together, his gloves slick and cool against Iruka's skin. He huffed, tugged his mask down, and smiled up at Iruka. "Apparently I'm getting some help, whether I want it or not."

"It's a good job I love you," Iruka said, lips twitching into an answering smile. "Do I get a job title? I was thinking, Official Excavator of Hatake Secrets. What d'you think?"

The laughter was genuine as well. "You might end up with a nice uniform that comes with sleeves that do up back here." He wrapped his arms around him as though in a strait-jacket.

"Phah," Iruka waved him off. "If I can survive Naruto, I can survive you."

"It won't be easy."

Iruka studied the serious look on his lover's face. "I know, but you're worth it."

"Now I know you'll end up in that strait-jacket." Kakashi propped his chin on his hand and sighed. It sounded happy, contented. "Maybe I should just resign myself now to kinky bondage sex for the rest of my life."

"Idiot." They sat in silence for a while, a comfortable relaxed silence that involved two people simply enjoying each other's company, then Iruka said, "I promised I wouldn't push, but there is one question I'd like an answer to." Kakashi raised an querying eyebrow, which Iruka took as permission to continue. "What happened that night on the monument? I know you didn't jump off but Shizune said there was no sign- Kakashi? Kakashi, are you okay?"

Kakashi had collapsed onto the table, his arms curled around his head. Iruka pried at one and managed to move it far enough to catch a glimpse of the truly spectacular blush colouring Kakashi's cheeks. "Come on, it can't have been that bad. Were you spying on someone and they caught you?" Kakashi shook his head, his hair making scratchy noises on the table-top. "Did an animal knock you off?" Another shake. "Well, what then."

"You," Kakashi mumbled.

"Me? I wasn't even in the village, I-"

"Was dreaming about you." Kakashi sat up, the blush mostly faded though his eyes still looked shifty. "After we argued I wanted to chat to Minato-sensei. And it's been too crowded near the memorial since... you know, and anyway Obito won't shut up when I'm talking about you, so I went up there instead. It was late and I was tired and I fell asleep and dreamed. About you. You were leaving me and I tried to stop you. That's when I fell. I didn't wake up until I hit the ground."

"So it was my fault." Iruka felt mortified. "If I hadn't kept pushing and pushing-"

"You weren't. I was just too much of a coward to open up." He took Iruka's hand again, lifting it to his face. "You're good for me. When you're not around, it's way too easy to ignore the world. You make me engage, make me remember what it is to be human. Don't ever stop doing that, love."

Iruka blushed, charmed and embarrassed in equal measure. "I will for as long as you'll have me," he said, and leaned as far over the table as he could. The kiss was sweet and sexy and warm, and completely ruined when Iruka's belly rumbled loudly. They tried to keep going but when it happened again, Kakashi sniggered and that was that. Iruka sat back down with a huff and said, "Well, it's either a bowl of rice and pickles here or home for dinner. What's it to be?"

"Home," Kakashi said with determination, struggling to his feet and wrestling his crutches into a comfortable position. Iruka hurried around the table to help him, and then shadowed him from the room, turning off the lights and closing the door behind them.

"Shizune's going to kill you when she gets her hands on you," he said as they left.

"So don't tell her."

"You can't lie to your doctor!"

"I lie to them all the time."

"That's because you're incorrigible."

"I dunno. A little bit of encouragement can be nice."

"That's not... that's..."

The front door closed, the voices faded, and in that tiny corner of Konoha, peace came at last.

_the end_


End file.
